


Wrath of the Succubus

by Koroshimasu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Age Difference, Canon Divergence - Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Dark Fantasy, Dark Magic, Dream Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Friendship/Love, Hate to Love, Light BDSM, Loss of Virginity, Love/Hate, Memory Magic, Mild Language, Oral Sex, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Recovered Memories, Repressed Memories, Sex Magic, Supernatural Illnesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25872301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koroshimasu/pseuds/Koroshimasu
Summary: Severus finds himself returning to Hogwarts and resumes teaching students he loathes. During an intense potions lesson, Hermione Granger falls deathly ill. In turn, Severus is repeatedly plagued with nightmares of a strange woman who tortures him sexually.Running out of time and options, on the behest of the Headmistress, Severus begins researching on Hermione’s mysterious ailment. What he finds for the cure is a fate truly worse than an eternity of torture.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 24
Kudos: 62





	1. Deadly Nightshade

**Wrath of the Succubus**

Severus Snape drew in a sharp breath as he was awoken and made as if to sit up. He was dazed to be up at such an ungodly hour. The grandfather clock in his bedroom chimed past midnight. With classes to teach bright and early in the morning, this behavior was odd.

Gazing about his spacious rooms in the darkness, it took him a few seconds to realize that his wrists were restrained to his bedposts. Now very confused, he looked around at his dimly lit room. The window was open, the drapes fluttering in a light breeze billowing inside.

 _“That’s not right!”_ he thought, nearly losing himself to a mild panic. _“I closed the window, just as I do every blasted night!”_ Again, he tried to get up, this time attempting to swing his long legs over the side of the bed. When his limbs wouldn’t budge, he groggily looked down past his knees, slightly recognizing bare flesh instead of the blankets that should have been and saw that his feet were also restrained. The melanic, silken material wrapped around his ankles, his feet, and even a few toes before wrapping around his bedposts. As he tried to flail, although weakly, he noticed a feeling that had remained hidden underneath his mind’s fog; he was being caressed.

At first it started on his chest, feather light touches that strayed across his collar bones and then down between his pectoral muscles. Then, it hit his stomach, slowly circling his belly button. Next, the sensual touch slid towards his left hip and he swore he felt a nail, no, more like a claw, swipe across the ridge of the bone. As the touch continued, it got ever so close to his cock, which he just noticed was extremely hard. When the touch completely bypassed his aching erection, he was surprised by the reaction it pulled out of himself.

A pathetic whimper…Severus bloody Snape, of all the stern professors in Hogwarts, was whimpering and groaning like some lost infant. Then, as swiftly as it came, the touch disappeared.

 _“What in the name of Hades?!”_ he thought; almost as if the absence of the touch gave him back logical thinking. Gazing around the room, Severus wondered aloud, “What was touching me? Am I imagining this? Why am I so turned on?” He asked himself all these questions with slight panic.

Before he could be lost too far, something caught his eye. Looking down, he saw a shimmering figure holding itself over him. A figure, he noticed, that had an obviously feminine form. Now, he began thinking as clearly as was possible with a hard-on, but he somehow looked at where he could kind of make out a face.

“Who are you? What the blazes?!” he started to ask but cut himself off with a deep groan as his cock was enveloped within scorching wetness. Strangely enough, after a few seconds, he could distinctly feel a rough flickering tongue, almost like a serpent’s, before his mind became dulled once more. The tight suction of the wetness ventured up, down, up, then down again while at the same time, the lizard-like tongue would swirl around the tip. A few times, he arched his back as much as his restraints allowed in response to a delicious scraping along the bottom of his member.

 _“Teeth…sharp teeth…this…feels good,”_ he crooned internally, loathing his damn body for the first time in his adult life.

As the torment continued, he seemed to gain back some ability to think. He looked at the creature’s head bobbing between his spread legs. The longer he stared at the obscene act, the more of her he seemed to be able to make out. She was staring at him; that was the first thing he could see. Her eyes were a deep red that pulled his attention to them in a violent way. He could see pain, pleasure, death, and above all else, reverent power in her glittering irises.

Abruptly, Severus blinked, and the pulling force was shattered. Now that the spell had been broken, the middle-aged male was able to explore the rest of her face. She had angular, aristocratic features but contrasting full, plump lips. He could tell her skin was soft and the blue tone of it got darker towards her hairline. Her hair was long and a shiny black that flowed like water over his thighs and onto his mattress. He could barely make out her large breasts hovering slightly above his legs. They were swaying quite hypnotically with her motions. He could also see an elongated appendage twisting and writhing around his side.

 _“My word! Is that…no! Is that a bloody tail?!”_ he wondered as he saw something long and skinny with a spaded end twitch by his hip.

Almost as if she could read his mind, the aforementioned appendage lazily drifted from his mattress up, across his thigh, and joined her mouth over his groin. At that point, due to the inundation of sheer pleasure, he clenched his eyes closed because the chilling sensations the flat spade was running up his sack. She lifted his balls with every upstroke, pressing them close to his writhing body, and then let them fall back into place.

This continued for what felt like an eternity to Severus. The hot, wet suction on his cock and the slow fondling of his sack drove him mad, but then his member was released to the night air and he opened his eyes. She had shifted, coming up higher on his body and was staring at him again.

His eyes locked with hers and he was again pulled into a deep trance. He moaned, not only from the intensity of her gaze but because her tail had taken up residence on his cock. It wound itself around his generous length and began to rhythmically squeeze. He lifted his hips with each compression, humping the tight pressure. Suddenly, the spade began to run agonizingly slowly through his slit with its edge. At once, Severus groaned and closed his eyes again, but not for long as they shot open and he gasped due to a sharp pain on his chest. She had bitten away at his left nipple. As her rough tongue came out to play with the injured nub, his back arched up with his hips, leaving his calves and head the only things touching his mattress for a breathless minute.

All the ministrations stopped, then, and he looked to her face to see a smirk. He realized at this point that the shimmering glamour was gone, and there was a cobalt demon-like woman above himself.

Finally feeling he had enough stamina, Severus swallowed, profusely sweating the entire time. Stricken as he was, he gasped, “Wh-what…the devil are y-you?” Instead of words serving as his reply, the stunned man received a full-fanged smile as an answer.

She was gorgeous, whatever she was, he decided. With nothing hindering his view of her, he watched as she slowly moved to straddle him. Although, while having his cock pressed tightly against her dripping folds was distracting, he was again able to think clearly. She had probably released him from whatever spell she had cast to keep him hazy after realizing any thoughts of struggling were very long gone. Her pale skin was like looking into a twilight sky. Her almost black nipples caught his attention and he found himself desperately wanting to bite and suck on them like she had done to him. His eyes traveled on though, down to her voluptuous hips and the smooth, alabaster skin spanning between them.

At seeing his cock so very close to her sex, he let out a keening sort of moan. He needed it; needed her, needed release. The ache in his balls was profound. It hurt, and quite badly, especially with each beat of his own heart. And she knew of his fears, desires, and needs…he was certain she did, because her smile widened with an air of overconfidence.

She leaned forward then, her ample breasts pressing against his heaving chest, and touched her black plump lips to his. At the same time, she viciously bit his lip, though he didn’t mind. Deliciously, her lower half raised up and she gently sat herself on his rigid member. He moaned so loudly once his rigid member entered her warmth, that he was surprised the neighbors weren’t up and yelling. She was soaking wet and hot, hotter than her mouth had been. She was deliciously tight, too. He couldn’t think again, but this time, he knew it was no spell.

Studying her for a moment, Severus suddenly felt a claw run down his chest and shuddered. He looked back up at her hungry face. She was watching him intensely and he pleaded to her with his eyes. His tongue weighed too much in his parched mouth.

Eyebrows furrowed, he whined internally, _“P-please…move…please…”_ He thought about desperately pounding his hips up into her, when she complied. Slowly at first, but soon, she was riding him with a vigor. When his eyes weren’t shut in ecstasy, he watched her breasts bounce from her exertion. After a few minutes she leaned back, and he watched as his cock was engulfed over and over again in her exquisite opening. He was getting close. She had been playing with him for a while, and since it’d been years for Severus, he was surprised he had even lasted this long; another spell perhaps. At that moment, he realized she had leaned onto him and was sucking on his neck. He saw her tail swaying above her back before it suddenly darted down, nestling between his legs he discovered. As he again felt the cold spade on his sack, Severus had to battle for his self-control.

 _“Oh gods,”_ he brokenly thought, _“I’m going to come!”_ If possible, her speed increased, and he could feel the tight coil in his belly right before she bit down hard on the left side of his neck without warning. Strangely, she’d aimed for the spot relatively close to Nagini’s old scar. His body spasmed and he screamed as his orgasm was ripped from himself so selfishly.

Seeing blood behind his closed eyes, Severus noticed he was breathing harshly and sweating while she slowly rode out the remainder of his erection. She brought her head from his neck and with her lips next to his tender ear, she whispered, “There is no God here, love…”

Gaping at her in awe, while he’d been reduced to a statuesque state, in the smoothest, darkest voice he had ever heard, she purred happily, “I’m eager to taste your flesh, Severus…the little sample I had just now…oh, it was to die for…”

When she nuzzled him so affectionately, he gasped in surprise at her voice and tried to look at her visage. Instead, he saw her pointed ears as she licked his lightly bleeding neck. She slowly got off him, his spent cock slipping from her tight heat. Now standing next to his bed, she flashed her fangs in another smile, and then ran her hand across his cheek. Suddenly, he felt so sleepy…and he hadn’t truly seen her form…

Gritting his teeth, Severus writhed in pain. “W-wait!” he called at length as she walked toward the window. She didn’t stop until she came to the open sill, and even then, made as if to jump out. Finally, she turned back and smiled a wistful smile.

As their eyes met, Severus’ jaw dropped. Sputtering and gaping were all he could do as he stared into her vicious eyes.

“Goodnight, my dear Severus,” she pleasantly drawled. And with that, she leapt out the window. As Severus’ dark eyes drew together, the last thing he saw was the window closing of its own accord, and his bindings turning to dust.

Though she was gone, she would haunt the darkest parts of his mind for the rest of his life, and for good reason, too. It wasn’t just any young woman he’d seen at random sleeping with him and being so intimate…it was none other than Hermione Granger who’d visited him that night.


	2. A Dreary Beginning

Mornings were an agonizing torture sent from the devil; Severus was totally convinced. The stoic, taciturn professor was up before six, already dressed in his casual, loose robes. Standing before the huge mirror by his dresser, he scowled at his reflection from head to toe, particularly finding disdain for the dark scar Nagini’s bite had left running across his neck. It still plagued him and interminably would. The damn thing only served as a reminder to himself for how stupid and foolish he’d once been, dating all the way back to his years serving as not only a Death Eater, but as a spy for Dumbledore.

He knew he would never extricate himself from his morbid, sordid world without some wounds and blood spilled, but when death itself visited Severus Snape, he’d been glad. At least he could rest, for once…but no, the damn brat Granger had to find him and bring her stupid friends along for the ride. They had to always be so heroic, these lauded Gryffindors. It was in their blood, wasn’t it?

Gritting and grinding his teeth together to the point where it gave himself a bloody headache, Severus stopped cursing himself in his mirror as he thought to the dream he’d had of Hermione Granger.

Yes, she couldn’t even leave him alone in dreams, but why on earth had he been dreaming of sleeping with her as she appeared like a demon? What the devil was that about?

Shaking his head sternly, he tossed it off to having far too much Firewhisky the previous night for the benefit of grading banal essays from the second-year students. Perhaps someone in Mungo’s would say otherwise, no doubt digging into his sex life and childhood, trying to link and connect the damn clues together when there weren’t any to begin with…psychological illness…

Severus wanted to vomit.

Still, he’d never been interested in a student, not even for the sake of curiosity. It made no damn sense. He’d never ogled at her, or any female, really. After all, he’d been the great, black, greasy bat of the dungeons to many, and even in his youth, women only approached to jeer and mock him. Having sexual relations with a woman was quite rare for himself, and he hated that he had to pay for services once…

Whatever the case, he knew he was going to be late, and he didn’t need his reasoning provided to the Headmistress to be: “A thousand humble apologies, Headmistress McGonagall; I was only entertaining the most prurient dream involving your golden girl, Prefect Hermione Granger…she was quite the wildcat, by the way…and less intolerable, especially when she showed me she was capable of using that mouth for something productive…”

Yes, if _that_ didn’t warrant his own expulsion, then he didn’t know what would.

Forgetting the damn dream-no, nightmare, he merely grabbed a dark shawl he’d always used for concealing the bite mark, wrapped it about his neck like a makeshift scarf, grabbed the rest of his notes, and was off without giving it much thought.

∞α∞α∞

Severus coldly rejected a strawberry jam covered toast Filius Flitwick eased onto his empty plate. The charms professor made a rather crude comment that Severus was looking as though he’d lost some weight. Grumpily, before Severus could fire back a sharp retort, not only did Madam Hooch settle right next to Flitwick, but she brought along with herself Professor Gilderoy Lockhart.

Wonderful.

The still amnesiac professor giggled and waved at everyone as he usually did. Somewhere deep down, although majority of his memories were completely erased, it seemed as though he possessed a few old memories of his past serving as a so-called ‘celebrity’. Perhaps he genuinely assumed he remained one, to this day. Irritably, the younger students, especially the females, still fawned over him. He’d healed rather well, and although slightly older, now, he was a lot more ‘handsome’ than Severus.

Either way, since he was now of no harm to anyone, he served as an assistant for various people. Majority of the time, Professor Lockhart volunteered in the library, kitchens, would often clean, and stay away from students when it came to actual teachings and lectures. By all accounts, he technically wasn’t a ‘Professor’, but Severus knew everyone had to entertain that and humor the man out of a fear of a great, emotional outburst.

The other end of the Head Table suddenly sank, and a chair gave out a loud noise. Severus didn’t need to look to know that it was only from Professor Hagrid’s massive size and weight. The Care of Magical Creatures Professor kept to himself for the most part, and it seemed he didn’t wish to be a part of the morning festivities, especially today.

Rolling his eyes back to the sea of students, Severus’ black orbs accidentally landed on the form and shape of Hermione Granger. Of all her friends and snobby, fellow Gryffindors, she was the only one who’d returned…at least for classes and as a Prefect. Potter and Weasley technically had returned, as well, though not to complete their education. Since the battle and damage to the castle, they’d been in charge of repairs, and as ‘war heroes’, rather than completing the rest of their classes, they were given what Severus deemed and labeled as ‘special treatment’.

Weasley began training alongside Madam Hooch, often chatting for hours as he rode off throughout the fields and prepared the younger, newer Quidditch teams with zeal and glee. Potter was now studying and training to become an Auror, which Severus thought was purely insane. The brat would never make it, and with a lot of Dark Arts being banned since the fall of the Dark Lord, it was highly unlikely that the Golden Boy would have a damn career in the field.

Idiotic dreaming…

As such, Granger would often stick like glue to Weasley’s wench sister, as well as another chit Severus didn’t bother speaking with a lot. Luna Lovegood was a great nuisance to him. Always having her head in the damn clouds proved she was quite irritating, and he didn’t particularly enjoy hearing of her ‘theories’ and oddities. For some reason, the trio of females got along swimmingly, and that was good enough for Severus.

Granger served as an assistant more for the Headmistress, now, and since Albus’ portrait was always coming to life, chuckling and laughing fondly and pleasantly, Hermione could often be found in Dumbledore’s old office, chatting with the Wizard for hours on end.

Things hadn’t changed…yet they had…everyone was older, and Severus was moodier.

When Professor Flitwick shoved the damn toast into his face for the final time, Severus lost control and erupted. Slamming a hand down on the table, he roared, “Get that out of my face, Flitwick! I don’t want any damn—”

“Ssscheverussh!”

Shriveling up at once due to the potent Scottish accent belonging to the Headmistress rising in his ears, Severus winced as he gazed angrily at the floor. “My apologies…I don’t care for anything at the moment, but I _do_ appreciate your concern, Flitwick.”

Once through with this ‘apology’, Severus scowled up at McGonagall, as if silently asking her: ‘Is this good enough for you?’

Meeting his glare with one of her own, the stern woman grumbled, “That was a tad sarcastic, Severus. Might want to try a little harder.”

Proud of himself, Severus slowly rose from the table as he muttered more to himself, “Seems I haven’t lost my touch, then.” As his chair legs scraped noisily across the stony floors, it drew the attention of a few students. This was natural, of course, but one student’s attention it pulled was that of Granger…the very person Severus loathed and had been hoping to ignore.

When their eyes met, Severus had to repress a shiver. What the hell? He hadn’t needed to react this way! Normally, whenever the Dark Lord had scowled into his eyes, he would react this way! Why with Granger? She was an inept worm! She was only an intolerable annoyance! A bloody righteous Gryffindor! She shouldn’t have held such power over him!

Standing there motionless, Severus began fuming and growling. He never broke eye contact with Granger, and his behavior quickly drew more attention.

Frowning in deep and natural confusion, as the sun streamed in through the gigantic windows of the Great Hall, McGonagall then lifted a thin brow and adjusted her glasses up higher along the bridge of her nose. “Severus? Is something the matter?”

Though his ears heard her, his brain wasn’t registering anything. He could hear her words, but they blended, sounding like jabbering and incoherent nonsense. Shaking his head roughly, Severus blinked hard, and the moment he had, he noticed that Granger was now returning to her conversation with her friends.

What the hell was that?

“Severus!” The table shook, rousing his attention from the vibrations.

Gruffly, Severus grunted, glaring at the Headmistress for the interruption.

Standing her ground, the elderly woman snapped mordantly, “Don’t look at me like that, Severus!”

Sarcastically, Madam Hooch replied, “If he’s looking at you like that, Headmistress, it means all’s well and good.”

This insipid comment wrenched hearty laughter from the Head Table and drew forth Severus’ short fuse. Cantankerously, the Potions Professor tucked his chair into the long table, already storming through the back door.

Severus didn’t even bother slamming it after himself; he’d already made quite the scene. 

∞α∞α∞

Severus shooed out the last annoying first-year Hufflepuff who’d tried to stay behind and discuss why they’d obtained the lowest grade of the class on their essay. What was with students, today? Were they all so damn entitled that they couldn’t accept the fact that they were mediocre, at best? Why did they have to talk back to him?

Already bothered by the recalcitrance exhibited from the young student, Severus’ nerves were frayed by the time he cleared off his messy, disorganized desk, cast a cleansing charm on the desks and workstations, and then rolled up his sleeves slightly. It was now time to permit the seventh years to enter, but this wasn’t exactly a ‘reprieve’ by any means. He didn’t even need to be reminded of his attendance list to know that Lovegood, Weasley’s sister, as well as Hermione Granger were all in this class.

Granger didn’t necessarily need to be here. Technically, the nineteen-year-old already no doubt had memorized everything there was to know after sticking her nose in too many damn books in the library, and since she’d now accrued ‘hands-on experience’, Severus abhorred her presence in the class.

During the first week back, Hermione was rather silent, but only due to on-going, lingering trauma she’d suffered. However, after a mere seven days of classes, she was back at it again, constantly raising her arm up like a damn mast in classes, twittering and chittering about, eager to provide all the answers, eager to whisper instructions into everyone’s ears, just as she had with the Longbottom boy all those years ago.

Yes, things never changed, did they?

Hopelessly, Severus decided to move things along, before he drove himself mad. Subjecting himself to abject misery, and not even at ten in the morning, he shoved open the classroom door, standing to the side as tall as he could. Like a damn medieval knight at his post, he nodded stiffly at the very first student in line…Hermione Granger.

Pointing inside the classroom, he coldly hissed, “In.”

Respectfully bowing, Hermione breezed past him, and one by one, the rest of the students did, as well.

Once the last student took to their seat, Severus found himself studying Hermione’s form. Though her student uniform still appeared loose and baggy, she’d changed in many ways. At least she’d learned a decent enough spell to sort out the bird nest on the top of her head. Her hair now flowed quite elegantly down to the middle of her back, not even a wave or a curl to be found. She’d highlighted portions of her hair nicely, and it gave her a more mature look. Gone were her freckles, gone were her childish buckteeth, and that damn overbite…wait…did she ever have an overbite?

“Professor Snape?”

Upon hearing his surname, Severus blinked, thrown entirely off-course. As he surveyed his class of twenty-eight students, his scowl returned to his sangfroid visage and demeanor.

Damn.

Clearing his throat, he slammed the door shut and wandered over to the blackboards. Waving his wand, instructions appeared on the length of the board, but Severus had a few tricks up his sleeve. He wanted to genuinely know who was paying attention, and who was, like a sheep, blindly following instructions.

“Now then, these instructions are for brewing pain-reliever potions.” Looking down his nose at everyone, his upper lip curled back. Voice cutting through the air like scissors gliding across silk, he huffed softly, “Madam Pomfrey is in dire need of as many potions as she can get, and I’m working on new projects for the Ministry. My time is far too precious, so you’ll be required to put your…” Pausing, he sarcastically pushed out, “… _Skills_ to good use. You have the entire period to work. Begin.”

Turning on his heels to head to sit at his desk, Severus hardly gathered his quill in his hand, when immediately, a hand flew in the air.

Closing his eyes and mentally counting to ‘three’, Severus ground out, “What is it, Granger?” The way he’d addressed her seemed more like a demand than a question, but he didn’t care. Already, he was thinking of asking Pomfrey for a damn pain reliever potion, himself…especially one that would knock him out for a full week.

Shifting in her chair, Hermione stated boldly, “Sir, I couldn’t help but notice that these instructions, they…” Inhaling sharply, Hermione continued, “…Sorry to say, sir, but they’re incorrect, and if students were to follow them without paying close attention, the results would be fatal.”

Bloody wench. She just _had_ to go and spoil everything, didn’t she?

Severus knew he should’ve foreseen this coming a mile away, and he dropped his quill as he stood with his arms crossed over his bony sternum.

Trying to remain calm, he again counted to ‘three’ before he eerily commented in a voice far too gentle, “Miss Granger, I personally congratulate you for ruining the entire purpose of my lesson.” Sarcasm and steam oozed and dripped out of his mouth, ears, and from the top of his head. Glaring soundly at her, he irritably snapped, “As your reward, you’ll write me a full essay, no more than one-thousand words, on the topic of being a nosy chit.”

He’d already gone too far, and he could tell when Luna gasped loudly. She tried to recover from it by slapping her hands over her mouth to silence herself, but Severus was already too far gone in his negative mood.

Rounding on her, next, he barked, “Lovegood! Do you have anything you wish to share with us?” Mocking her further by pressing a hand and cupping it around his ear, he pantomimed pressing a hearing device closely against his skull. “Come on, then! Let’s all hear it!”

A few Slytherins naturally were amused by this, but it was natural due to their house. Severus was more certain they were merely humoring him than actually finding it funny. The culture and atmosphere since the war had ended had vastly changed, except in his classes. For some reason, whenever students were with him, the age-old bullying behavior of Slytherin versus Gryffindor returned. Severus never even understood why. He didn’t exactly encourage or invoke the behavior, but then again, he didn’t actively work to prevent and disparage it, either…

When Luna Lovegood began stuttering and shaking her head wildly, Severus stormed over to her desk, looming over her slender frame. “Lovegood. We don’t have all day for your muteness.” Using his superior height to his advantage, he snarled aggressively, “If you have something to say, then bloody well say it!”

Shivering like a mouse, Luna closed her eyes as she leaned in closely and whispered, “P-Professor…I d-don’t wish to alarm, but there’s a nargle in the room!”

Oh for the love of Persephone and the entire Underworld.

Rolling his eyes, Severus massaged his temples, already feeling a headache pounding in his skull and brain. “Lovegood, do you see any damn mistletoe in this classroom?”

Worrying her lower lip with her pearly white teeth, the young student answered timorously, “No, s-sir.”

“As I thought. Now, if you would be so kind as to—” As he turned away from her, he suddenly noticed how blanch in the face Hermione appeared. Normally, the young woman had a mild tan about her epidermis, and now, she was whiter than the Hogwarts ghosts…

Unnerved, though mildly, Severus flew over to her desk. Silently assessing her with his coal-colored eyes, he eventually hissed a sibilant hiss. “Granger? What’s this? A case of morning sickness?”

Again, at his odd social quip, Slytherin students chuckled. Weasley wasn’t as amused or charmed by this, and she scowled fiercely, red hair even more fiery than her temper.

Disapproving of her attitude, Severus chided curtly, “Weasley, remember who the Professor is, here.” Not wanting to spend too much time lecturing her, Severus’ eyes scoured Hermione, even though he was addressing the younger female. There were a few conclusions he could draw as he observed Hermione, but it wasn’t enough of a serious concern to warrant her dismissal from his class.

A part of himself resented her for stumbling upon him and rescuing him, and he wanted to draw out her torture. Petty as it was, he couldn’t help it as he fell back into his odd thoughts and memories.

He’d been near death, left to bleed out from the most fatal wound. Potter had cried out for someone, and Severus only recalled murmuring something about his mother’s eyes…fading in and out of consciousness, the next thing he vividly remembered was Hermione waving her wand in his face, healing spells blasting away directly into his system…

Pulling himself out of that memory, and as far away from that horrid day as he could, Severus stomped a foot down as if to assert himself. There was no need for it, especially when Hermione began drooping like a dying, withering flower.

She was hardly able to hold her head up, and she draped a hand across her stomach. For a split second, Severus truly did wonder if she was with child…wasn’t she romantically attached to the older Weasley?

…Why did it matter?

Before he embarrassed himself even further, Severus pounded a clenched fist over her desk. It frightened the piss out of a few Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, but it did nothing for his intended target.

Groaning, Hermione merely whimpered brokenly, “Professor Snape…I…s-sir…I don’t…f-feel…well…”

Noticing that all the color had drained from her face, leaving her hair to appear almost a shade darker than it normally was, Severus shook his head. “That much was obvious from the moment I laid eyes on you, Granger.” Wanting to take advantage of her lowly state as much as he could, he sauntered even closer to her, until his hooked nose was practically hovering by her ear.

“Tell me, Miss Granger,” began his slithering voice, icily crawling over her, rendering her totally silent and frozen. Noticing the effect he had on her, Severus triumphed internally and upped his antics. “Miss Granger, did you _really_ enjoy being at the height of dramatics both during as well as _after_ the war?”

With a shrill cry of protestation, Ginny Weasley yelled out, “Professor! Leave her alone! Can’t you see she’s not well?”

Casting her a deadly look, Severus demanded, “Shut up, Weasley.” Once she’d been quiet, he again turned to Hermione, mustering up all the resentment and hatred he had for her.

Without even thinking of the words pouring and streaming past his frigid lips, Severus demeaned and degraded her even further, imagining the entire time that he was drowning her into the mud and dirt where she belonged.

“Did it absolve you of some of your petty guilt, then? Did saving me and using my life as a bloody pawn help increase your dull sense of self-righteousness? Or did you want to use that as an excuse to bludgeon me over the head with at a later point, Granger?” Shaking and nearly exploding in volcanic anger he’d suppressed for nearly a full decade, Severus finally felt the floodgates bursting open.

Chest swelling, blood pounding in his ears, and heartbeat increasing substantially, his fiery words seeped through like a potent, pyrexical, Fire Dwelling salamander. They knew no bounds as he hurtled through them, wanting to reach the precipice before throwing himself off it, and then the Granger girl.

Teeth sharper than his wit, he bit the insides of his cheeks as he testily and saucily sneered at her. “Now you’re silent? My gods, girl, it appears that this wish of mine has come _years_ far too late. If only there was a way to permanently silence you, woman. I’d have done so ages ago if it meant rendering myself sane.”

With that verbal knife twisting in deeper and deeper, Hermione weakly lifted her head and gazed right into Severus’ tortured soul. At once, without even a warning, Severus saw a woman with dark hair, plump lips, and vermillion eyes…the same woman from his dreams. She’d now been reflected and revealed in Hermione’s visage, glaring madly right at him.

The connections were too vivid, now. Though there was no veracity and accuracy in the two women even being remotely linked, right now, Severus thought it was possible. There were far too many resemblances, and they were quite uncanny. Hermione’s sickly pale skin, hair nearly appearing blacker than the night, and her pink eyes due to stress of perhaps lack of sleep all reminded him too well of his perverse dream.

Severus gasped once his thoughts caught up to himself. As though someone had bashed him over the head with a giant’s mallet, he felt his skull coursing with electric pain. Thoughts severed in two, they differed vastly from what he’d wanted to say to her, and what he actually did wind up exclaiming. It seemed like someone had possessed him, re-programming him to behave completely differently. There was no other explanation for why he’d internally wanted to kill her, yet verbally, he was fumbling for apologies.

Someone or something had split him in two. His ego wasn’t even his own, anymore. It couldn’t have been, not for the psychological torment and languid emotions flitting about. They each weighed a ton, pulling him down into a quagmire of bleakness and servitude.

He only wanted to apologize to her rather than subjecting her to his derision and pernicious ideas, and he so he did. For some warped reason unknown to anyone on that day, Severus Snape revealed that he wanted to right his wrongs…he wanted to please her…he wanted to serve her…forever…

“Miss Granger! That was t-terribly rude of me! I—” Before he could finish his apologies and pathetic, wordy bumbling, Hermione stood, moved away from her seat, and swiftly turned to him.

Without warning, she bent over him, and violently vomited all over Severus’ shoes. Hermione spewed her bowels out so violently that it terrified all the other students. They shot up like darts, screaming as they backed away from the desks. Severus tried to remain calm, himself, but it was truly reviling knowing her sick was all over his expensive dragon hide boots.

However, when he peered down at the floor, he soon understood more than anything why his students were screaming their heads off…if he’d been their age, Severus too would’ve shouted and turned to make a break for it.

Hermione Granger had vomited dark blood all over the floor.

* * *

Post Edit, I just remembered this: 


	3. White and Black

Severus had to wonder what the deuce about his boots made them a puking target. Not only had that idiotic young man Cormac McLaggen thrown up on them years ago, but now, Hermione Granger had, as well.

Confound it all. He should’ve tossed them out, especially now. They reeked of blood, but that wasn’t important, at the end of the day.

Severus had a terribly ill student on his hands. It was his duty as a Hogwarts Professor to get her medical attention. His classes were immediately canceled for the day, and together, along with Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley, he tore through the castle, nearly falling and tripping due to his long shawl coming undone and flowing beneath his feet.

Somehow, they made it onto the last moving staircase. The stairway portraits grimly watched in horror, pointing and whispering their judgmental susurrus. They supplied at least a hundred theories for why the young Gryffindor Prefect was unwell, but Severus paid them no mind. All he wanted to do was make it to the Hospital Wing before his heart gave out.

Carrying the young, unconscious woman in his arms had worn himself out. Severus wasn’t as young and in shape as he once thought, much to his own chagrin. She’d gained some healthy weight, of course, and as Flitwick had snidely pointed out, Severus had lost it. Muscle muss reduced considerably; he hadn’t been able to keep up with his stamina. The Hospital Tower seemed as though it was on another plane of existence, practically. His mind was exaggerating its location due to his heightened levels of exhaustion, at which he had to stop and shift Hermione from his arms and onto Weasley and Lovegood.

Grunting as he eased her onto the left side of Luna, while Ginny quickly took her on her right, allowing Hermione to lean onto her shoulder, Severus began leading the way.

“Quickly!” Flying through the halls, he made a few sharp turns, nearly forgetting that the ghosts were curious as to what he was doing, and what the commotion was due to the insane levels of bombastic noise.

Peeves in particular dove at him, and Severus ducked at the very last minute before a gigantic spitball made contact with his head. It blasted through the air and landed on a wall, and the nasty poltergeist who loved to cause trouble and wreak havoc only cackled at the sight of it all.

Severus threatened him with his wand when he wouldn’t budge, and irritably, Peeves blew a potent raspberry before disappearing completely. Now that the pernicious annoyance of a poltergeist had made himself scarce, Severus shouted and ordered for other students who were pausing to gape at Hermione to move out of his way.

In a gnarly tone, he bellowed monstrously, “Don’t just stand there dawdling! You have lessons to attend to, do you not?” Though he wasn’t as frightening and intimidating as he’d been nearly half a decade ago, with the ambiance being as melancholic and with the malaise-stricken Hermione hanging limply while Ginny and Luna tried carrying her, it was enough for the rest of the student body to back off.

Once the way had been clear for them, Severus tore into the hospital wing. He didn’t care that this was no doubt going to disturb a few students sleeping and recovering from physical strain and exertion due to minor Quidditch mishaps. No doubt, he feared Hermione was mere moments away from death due to how clammy, cold, and pale she’d become.

Throwing his head back, he roared repeatedly, “POPPY! POPPY! WE NEED YOU, WOMAN!” Where was she when she was badly needed?? Bursting through the stretch of the wing, Severus went on shouting and shouting, immediately rousing the slumbering patients.

At once, the door to Madam Pomfrey’s office flung open, and the talented healer rushed towards them. Her cap flew off her head, and she hardly had time to gather her hair into a small bun. By all accounts, it appeared she’d been in the middle of something quite important before they’d interrupted…

“POPPY!!” Lunging at her, Severus took a moment to catch his breath before he pointed weakly at Hermione’s form. “Poppy! Granger! Sh-she’s…haa! She’s unwell! Fainted and th-threw up all over my boots! Blood!” Gesturing down at his footwear while the blood had marginally dried off, he stood back and presented both himself, as well as Hermione to Madam Pomfrey.

Baffled, the completely astonished woman charged ahead as she helped Ginny and Luna carry the unconscious Hermione onto a vacant bed. “Severus! This is unprecedented!” Lecturing the potions professor harshly, she nudged him out of the way while nodding at Luna.

“Luna, be a dear and please take off Miss Granger’s shoes!” Not even sparing a moment, she then addressed Ginny. “Miss Weasley, be so kind as to retrieve from my office a small, dark green vial. Inside it will be a stabilizing agent this poor girl needs, now!”

Setting off to work, Luna and Ginny obediently did as they were told. When Ginny had returned from Madam Pomfrey’s office with the vial, the older witch hardly had time to pull off the thick cork, when loud footsteps thudded and stormed into the Hospital Wing. They echoed and boomed bombastically like thunder, and the voices which they belonged to made Severus squirm.

“GINNY! HERMIONE! WHAT’S GOING ON??”

“GIN! YOU ALL RIGHT??”

Annoyance number one, and annoyance number two, in great order, as well. Harry Potter, the Prat Who Lived and defeated the Dark Lord, as well as his ridiculous excuse for a sidekick, Ronald Weasley, were now both hovering around the young women.

Since the war, both Harry and Ron hadn’t grown too much. Ron was nearly an inch taller than Harry, but both young men were quite athletically built, no doubt from all the years spent exercising and routinely playing Quidditch. Harry had donned new glasses, now, and they gave him a rather appealing, mature look. His features were more defined and chiseled, whereas Ron simply looked exhausted.

Both Gryffindors were visibly panicked and frazzled, however, Ron especially grew whiter than a phantom as he gaped at Hermione. Trembling as he studied her bloodied lips, he whimpered before peering up at Severus. At once, his frightened mien disappeared, and instead, a look of madness and sheer frenzy overcame himself.

Fingers twitching with a murderous intent, he released a barbaric sound as he tore at Severus. Swiping at him while Harry held onto his shoulders, he kicked and wailed mutinously, “You greasy, black bat! What have you done to her? What did you do to ‘Mione?!”

“RON! CALM DOWN, MATE!” Harry tried holding his friend back, and then Ginny got involved. Standing between Harry and Ron, she too began shouting, clearly affected by all their rage and panic. In the middle of it all, Luna Lovegood merely peered out the windows, leaning on her propped-up elbows as she let out a small, dreamy sigh, round eyes glowing brightly as she gazed into the warm sun floating far in the distance away from Hogwarts.

Waving her arms and shrieking, Madam Pomfrey gathered all her stamina before screeching, “ENOUGH!! EVERYONE, SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP!!”

That did well enough to render the young witch and angry wizards silent. Severus had yet to say anything, but he resolutely scowled ferociously at Ron. Visibly trembling against his friend, Ron shoved Harry off his shoulders with a strong, backwards shrug.

Eyeing them while her patience was short, Madam Pomfrey held the vial at her side before raising her arm and pointing at both Ron and Harry with it, as though it were a wand. Their eyes widened, and Ron let out a faint squeak.

“Gentlemen!” Pomfrey commanded boisterously, “Have you all lost your minds?!” Gesturing expansively at the other row of beds, she hissed like a serpent, “I have patients, here! You’re disturbing them all, you overgrown children!”

With a penitent look, Ron hung his head contritely, while Harry murmured apologetically, “Sorry, Madam Pomfrey.”

Pressing herself against his bulkier, stronger frame, Ginny held tightly onto her fiancé’s hand as she too whispered, “Sorry, Madam Pomfrey.”

Huffing irritably, the matron moved to sit on the edge of Hermione’s bed. As soon as she did, Ron let out a tiny growl as he pointed at Severus rudely. “She was in your class! Don’t lie to me and deny it; you were the one who was close to her when this all happened!”

Throwing him an icy glare, Madam Pomfrey warned, “Mister Weasley! Keep your voice down!”

As much as he hated being petty and childish, Severus had to admit to himself how pleasurable and wondrous it was when Weasley and Potter were being admonished and reprimanded this way. Since they no longer were in his classes, with Salazar’s blessings, he didn’t have the luxury of punishing them. Though Severus felt they were much too old for that, and he was well past taking House Points, he still had quite an itch to scratch when it came to Potter, especially.

What he would only give to see the raven-haired young man squirm uncomfortably…just once…

Though his throat often burned and felt quite parched, no matter how much water he would drink, he wished to speak. The after-effects of suffering and recovering from Nagini’s bite left himself with lingering pain and the eerier, phantom-like sensations of teeth grazing along the pallor of his throat whenever he’d tried drifting off…thankfully, none of that was occurring, now, but it put him in a painful position anytime he wished to speak.

Bracing himself for it, Severus’ voice broke through a like cold, steel door slamming shut, echoing back the very final ‘end’ and judgement reserved for those who irritated him.

Ignoring the rambunctious state Ronald Weasley was in, Severus threw him an equally irritable, riotous scowl. Clasping his hands behind his back, he stood tall, enjoying that he still held an advantage of height against Potter, at least. “I’d appreciate not being berated and slandered, Mister Weasley. As daft as you are, surely, you are aware that Hogwarts staff members wouldn’t dare lay a hand on a student?”

Chest heaving up and down, face beet red, Ron began sweating as he snarled, “I _know_ you did something to hurt her. You made her drink a—”

From her spot by the windowsill, Luna spun around and shook her head. “No, Ron! Hermione didn’t drink anything.” Flitting over to the rest of the Gryffindors, she held a smile, goofy-looking and lopsided as it was. The mellisonant words flowed from her mouth as she crooned, “Hermione’s cursed…but not in the way you think.”

Eyebrows flying up to his hairline, Ron barked curtly, “What’re you on about, Luna?! Hermione’s—”

“Not your concern,” Luna interrupted, though not in a scathing or rude manner. As she chuckled and giggled to herself lightly, Madam Pomfrey adjusted Hermione’s pillow, dipped her head back and pressed the vial up to her lips. Gently prying her mouth open, she began tipping the contents of the vial into her mouth, making her drink it carefully.

Clicking her tongue against her teeth, Luna continued to admonish and chide Ron. Almost dancing around him while he was reduced to a balbutient state, she purred pleasantly, “Hermione’s not your girlfriend, Ron. Just leave her be, for the thing stirring within her system can only be dealt with if she allows for it.”

Harry took great offense to this as he shouted, “We can be concerned about her as friends!”

While they all bickered, Madam Pomfrey stood to her full height now that the vial’s contents had been downed by Hermione. Raising a bony index fingers to her lips, she hushed them and pointed out the doors. “Out! You lot are too noisy, and she needs her rest!” She began ushering them out, shoving them and nudging them until even Severus decided to follow.

Muttering to himself, he gathered his shawl about his neck and had been about to go in the opposite direction back to the stairwells, when Madam Pomfrey abruptly got in his way.

Frowning in deep confusion, Severus snarled acerbically, “Out of my way, Madam. I do have other matters to attend to.”

“Oh no you don’t, Severus!” Pushing him back towards Hermione’s bed, while the young woman was soundly asleep, Madam Pomfrey supplied, “I’m going to fetch the Headmistress. She’ll be in a total shock once she hears of this, but I need your help right now, Severus.”

When she gazed at him with a pleading sort of pained expression, Severus broke. He abhorred this, but he nodded, eager to keep up with his due diligence. “Very well, Poppy. What shall I do, then?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, the elderly healer took in a deep breath, held it, and then cursed under her breath. This line of behavior stunned Severus for a moment. Poppy was normally a quiet, maternal-like figure, and her manner was effete, usually. To hear her cussing in this way alarmed the potions professor greatly. 

Finally, after an age of a pregnant pause, Madam Pomfrey stated bluntly, “I’ll need your boots, Severus.”

When Severus dipped his head back and laughed, she felt too enervated to look for a way to get angry with him. Meeting his laugh with a stony glare, she eventually got him to snap out of it once he realized she wasn’t mocking him or being facetious.

Raising an inquisitive brow, he rasped, “My boots? Whatever for? I was going to cast Scourgify and cleanse the damn things.” Without hesitation, he bluntly commented, “They have blood on them, Poppy.”

“Oh, hush, Severus.” Waving his transgressions off as though swatting away an annoying fly, the matron scuffled about, checking on a few patients while yanking down curtains and barriers so no one would be disturbed more than they likely already were. Once she was through with her rounds, she sauntered over to the tall potions master and held out her hands.

Severus grumbled moodily, and she barked, “Take them off, Severus.”

The argument was lost; the battle had been won by Madam Pomfrey. Severus knew better than to bicker with a woman, so he sat on an empty chair and unzipped his heavy boots. Holding them up and wrinkling his nose as he reminded himself not to inhale, he passed them along to her. Mildly grateful he’d been relieved of them, the cool air hit his socks and toes, making them feel slightly damp after having been confined and trapped inside the warm, snug boots for many hours.

Glancing down almost boyishly at his feet, Severus mused to himself more than to Madam Pomfrey, “I don’t have anything, now…great.”

Choosing to prattle on, Madam Pomfrey moved back into her office, spraying the footwear with some kind of testing agent Severus didn’t care to know about. “Since the blood belongs to Miss Granger, it’s best for me to examine and run some tests on it sooner than later.” She looked at the time as she began picking up the pace, though before she left, she cried out to him, “Stay there, Severus, I’ll return promptly with Minerva.” She bowed her head, symbolically communicating to him that she was putting her trust and faith in him.

It was his turn to bow his head, so he did, silently. When he was left alone in the haunting hospital wing, he turned and studied Hermione. How she could be sleeping so peacefully at a time like this was beyond Severus, but he noticed that she was covered in a heavy sheen of sweat.

He supposed he should try and make her more comfortable, at the very least. After all, he didn’t want for Poppy as well as Minerva to unleash their wrath upon him and lambast him for not taking care of Gryffindor’s Princess…

Shifting himself as he draped clean sheets over her form, he didn’t fail to notice how her skin had now taken a caesious hue to it. She was sound asleep, but her body shook every few seconds with a potent shivering that even caused for the bed to squeak and follow her motions. Gingerly draping the back of a hand over her forehead, Severus noticed how she appeared to be running a fever, but then, the moment he’d touched her, she began rapidly turning frozen.

Yanking his hand away in fear, Severus decided to patiently wait for Poppy’s return. Whatever anomaly was afoot, here, and whatever reason was to be revealed for explaining Hermione Granger’s calescence and conflicting, colder body temperature, all could be done. Science proved useful, in cases like this, and Severus decided to wait.

∞α∞α∞

Someone shook Severus Snape awake. Gruffly, he muttered as he normally did in his sleep. Angry to be awakened so crudely, his vitriol soon dissipated and fell into a state of mild gratitude. He was almost sliding halfway off one side of his chair. Perched before Hermione’s bedside, he groggily rubbed his eyes, vision settling in after a moment.

Before himself, Minerva, as well as Poppy stood looking horrified and perplexed. Minerva’s lips were tightly pursed, and she pulled a face akin to how one would when they tasted something sour or highly bitter. Nose scrunching up, she shook Severus once more.

“Hmm, what time is it?” he blandly questioned as he stretched his long, thin limbs and repressed a yawn.

Almost whispering, Minerva replied, “Severus, it’s nearly midnight.”

With his two colleagues keeping an uncomfortable level of propinquity to Severus, the dark-haired male slipped into his usual state of dissociation. Due to his propensity for remaining aloof and subject to various forms of mendacity, the potions professor dourly commented, “Midnight? I shall be off, then. My work here is—”

Jutting out her arm and preventing him from even taking a single step away from his chair, Minerva sneered, which was rather unusual for her demeanor and character. “Severus, you’re not going anywhere.”

Scowling at her for this, Severus merely bit out, “Minerva, I’m exhausted. I’ve been through enough because of this brat, and quite frankly, her foolish antics and _illness_ have now enabled me to fall behind on my lessons.” Wrapping his robes tightly about his lithe form, he snapped, “I’m afraid I can’t do more than this.”

Exchanging serious looks with Madam Pomfrey, Minerva nodded before she stated bluntly and stiffly, “I’m afraid your efforts and contribution here are far from over, Severus.”

Bowing her head in obeisance, Madam Pomfrey held back, a look of total fear flitting about her blue eyes as she trembled. Timorously, she began, “I don’t mean to be the herald of grave news, Severus, but I’m afraid to report that Miss Granger’s life is at stake.”

Uncaring regarding the very individual he personally felt had damned him to suffer interminably, and unjustly so, Severus’ credulity diminished vastly upon hearing this. With an insouciant shrug, Severus snidely stated, “That’s not my concern, Poppy; perhaps the whelp has it coming to her, after all.”

Without warning, Minerva drew her right arm back and slapped Severus as hard as she could across his left cheek. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed potently throughout the stretch of the hospital wing, and where Poppy gasped, Severus merely gazed at the floor blandly.

Following a heavy, pregnant pause, he pressed a hand to the inflamed cheek sporting Minerva’s handprint. Meeting her eyes with a steamy glare of his own, the infernal man calmly bit out through clenched teeth, “I preferred it when you and I were dueling using magic rather than our hands, Minerva…still, an inept brawl is an inept brawl, and there’s no excuse for maladroitness.”

Quaking from head to toe, the elderly witch on the brink of explosion pushed out in a raw, painful tone, “Do you even want to _know_ what Miss Granger’s suffering from before you open your filthy mouth again, Severus?”

Sniffing, Severus dropped his hand away from his cheek and shrugged once more. “I assumed morning sickness was what ailed her. She had some of the symptoms, and I bet it was a miscarriage.”

Scoffing with full resentment pouring out of herself in waves, Minerva seethed. “Shows what little you know about the body of a woman, Severus.”

In agreement, Madam Pomfrey stated carefully while inching closer to her office, “The Headmistress is right, Severus; Miss Granger’s not pregnant, nor has she ever been sexually active.”

When the word ‘sex’ floated into his head space, Severus couldn’t help but sport a flushed face. Thankfully, among the protection of the dimly lit passageways as he followed Minerva and Madam Pomfrey towards the matron’s office, the candlelight and torches concealed his embarrassment. Mortified by the fact that he’d remembered his dream regarding Hermione, coupled with the logical fact that this wasn’t of his concern, the didactic professor chose to keep his mouth shut.

Once Madam Pomfrey walked them both into her cloistered office, she held up Severus’ boots. Shoving them up to the wizard’s nose, she disturbed him enough to the point where he turned away from them.

“How-Poppy! What’s the meaning of this?!” Disgusted and repulsed, he made to turn his back to her, when she screamed in a sharp demand.

“Look at them, Severus!” Her shrill cries knew no end, and out of a fear of rousing the entire population of Hogwarts, Severus finally obeyed.

Glowering down at the tip of his boots, he’d been expecting to see the dried blood, when instead, he was surprised by something else. Now, the blood had turned a deep purple shade, and it was constantly fizzing and bubbling. A foul odor rose in the air, smelling a lot like sulfur. By observation alone, Severus assumed it was some sort of poison or acid, and he had to wonder why Madam Pomfrey had allowed for this to stay on his boots and eat away through them.

Nearly losing himself to a spasmodic paroxysm of coughing and convulsing due to how horribly the fluid reeked, Severus reached into his robes and fished out a deep green cloth. Covering his nostrils with it, he broke out into a muffled complaint. “What did you put on my boots, Poppy?”

Peeking at them for a second, a dismayed Madam Pomfrey answered, “It was the testing solution, and due to the color, I’m afraid this is evidence of nothing in the way of a pregnancy, nor is this a sign of a curse someone may have placed on Miss Granger, or even food poisoning.”

Fuming at her from behind the cover and protection of his cloth, Severus hissed aggressively, “Then what’s the problem?”

Huffing, Minerva spat angrily, “Severus! I’m disappointed in you! I thought that as our infamous potions professor, you’d understand this!”

Not allowing him to fly off the handle, Madam Pomfrey explicated, “It’s a viral infection rooting in genetics, Severus.”

He’d never heard of such a thing. Incredulously, as he inched away to create more distance between himself and the abhorrent, abominable scent, he muttered, “That’s what’s gone awry, then? Something in Miss Granger’s genetics?”

“Although many viruses are capable of sub-clinical infection, only a few are known to undergo true latency. In latent infection, the full viral genome is retained in the host cell, but its expression is dramatically restricted, such that few viral antigens and no viral particles are produced.” Exhausted as she recited this all out, Madam Pomfrey wrung her hands together in nervous fits.

Softly, Severus pointed out, “You mentioned genetics? Viruses can linger in genetics, can’t they?”

Gathering her thoughts, Madam Pomfrey set various vials aside as she shifted through a few of them close to her old desk. No one knew what she was searching for, but either way, her quest soon came to an end before she spun back around and dropped her hands at her side. Fingers shaking and limbs twitching, she frightfully began, “I believe so, but in this case, as opposed to muggle infections and viruses, a recessive gene is what caused this strong virus.”

Almost reciting word for word what he remembered from his texts, Severus garbled out messily, “A recessive gene, which is a gene that is phenotypically expressed in the homozygous state but has its expression masked in the presence of a dominant gene, isn’t something that brings on viruses, Poppy.”

Frustrated, all of it showed quite evidently on the elderly woman’s face. She shook her head while Minerva cast a foul look straight at Severus. To the potions professor, he knew they were admonishing and judging him harshly for not following through, but he didn’t cater much to popularity. None of this made sense, and he wasn’t wary to point it out.

Knowing what he did about recessive genes, Severus pointed out verbally in an unsavory tone, “So Granger’s parents also possessed this gene, then?”

Nodding in confirmation solidly, Madam Pomfrey leaned against her organized desk. Clasping her tiny hands before herself across her lap, she sighed wearily, small wrinkles forming in the corners of her eyes. “I’m afraid so, yes. However, their immune systems no doubt were strong enough to keep the viral gene at bay.”

Catching on, Minerva commented with a disdainful glare, “Otherwise, Miss Granger’s parents would’ve shown signs and symptoms many years ago, I imagine.”

Blinking a few times quite hard, Severus lectured his two colleagues factually, “That doesn’t matter, nor does it make sense.” Pushing his shawl back and out of his way, he cleared his throat with mild difficulty before carrying on with a derogatory sneer.

Drawing his acute comparisons, Severus drew out and extrapolated, “When environmental conditions warrant, appropriate signals can trigger the full repertoire of viral gene expression, allowing virus production and spread to resume. Latency is the phase in certain viruses’ life cycles in which, after initial infection, proliferation of virus particles ceases.” Shoulder-length black hair hanging like a curtain over his pale, gaunt face, giving him the diabolical appearance of a raving mad-man, he supplied, “Muggle medical practitioners of course never notice such things…we’re dealing with a novel virus that is mostly magic based in prevalence, and hasn’t yet been studied long enough.”

Already panting and wheezing akin to one on the brink of a panic attack, Minerva rasped, “Can’t we do something?” When Severus and Madam Pomfrey gazed at her in nothing but heavy silence, she wailed thinly, “We cannot allow a student to suffer! This is madness!” 

Blandly, Severus threw out, “I don’t know. What bit about my stating that this is a ‘novel virus’ escaped your ears, Minerva?”

Hushing him to prevent another outburst from the Headmistress, Madam Pomfrey explained rationally and patiently, “We can do our best, however, the viral genome doesn’t seem like it can be fully eradicated.” Searching for answers as her pain-stricken eyes darted back and forth, she confessed emotionally, “We can try to isolate it and study it, but whatever this is, it’s affecting Miss Granger’s health at an alarmingly rapid rate!”

Nodding in his agreement, Severus added, “The result of our intervention is that the virus can reactivate, even if seemingly wiped out, and begin producing larger amounts of viral progeny.”

Almost flying over to Madam Pomfrey faster than the eyes could see, Minerva grasped the matron by her shoulders and gently shook her to get her attention. “Poppy! Perhaps we can call for Miss Granger’s parents! They must have this virus, and their immune systems have obviously proven to be strong enough to contain the detrimental effects!”

Shaking his head and wagging his finger at her as though she were another bratty student so terribly misinformed, Severus clicked his tongue against his teeth. “I’m afraid it isn’t that simple, Minerva. You see, efficient establishment of latency allows the viral genome to persist, despite host immune responses to many viral antigens, and in the face of other potentially adverse signals in the micro-environment.” Caliginous thoughts running amok, he didn’t know how to fit that into layman’s terms, so he didn’t bother. Thankfully, however, Madam Pomfrey was quite skilled in the art of summarizing and recapitulation.

“There must have been a trigger for the virus, otherwise, it would’ve remained dormant within Hermione for years to come.” Ruffling her hair messily as she took off her cap and plopped it onto her desk, she exhaled dejectedly, “Something set it off, and it could’ve been emotional, psychological, or—”

Snidely, Severus hissed, “I think emotional would be your wisest bet, Poppy.” Glaring at Minerva scathingly and meeting her eyes with a cold challenge, he concluded arrogantly, “After all, Miss Granger’s quite renowned here after many years of establishing herself as adamant for the art of theatrics, shall we say?”

Grinding her teeth together and ripping off her glasses, Minerva cried out in protest, “You horrible man, how dare you—”

Ignoring her was simple, as he’d been practicing that for years. Instead, Severus fed madam Pomfrey with a look of general indifference as he inquired, “Whatever the reason for the onset happens to be, I don’t wish to waste my time bothering to hazard guesses all night long. Is she contagious?”

Looking quite dumbfounded, Madam Pomfrey stuttered, “I…I’m…n-not…certain…”

Of course. Severus wasn’t surprised, but he knew he’d been in dire propinquity with Hermione as she threw up all over him. Randomly, he announced, “I’m going to run some tests, myself.” Straightening his form, he bit out harshly, “As they say: ‘if you want something done, it’s best to do it yourself’, and now I can ascertain as to why that statement exists…”

Feigning a mock smile that bled far too much resentment and sarcasm, Minerva McGonagall jeered, “Why, how wondrous and enchanting of you, Severus! I’ve never known you to be such a caring, gregarious man!”

Gathering her ideas together succinctly, Madam Pomfrey turned to Severus and made quick, chopping motions with her clenched fists, bringing them up and down stiffly, as though finalizing a serious, persuasive argument. “Severus, please reserve your energy for helping out! We know you can, and right now, we need you!”

He’d wanted to rudely chuck out that technically, _Hermione Granger_ needed his assistance, but the surly man had already dished out far too much in the way of his own contempt and disgust for the young woman.

As he tried controlling himself to the best of his abilities, his mirthless eyes stared and landed on an inanimate object somewhere behind Madam Pomfrey’s desk. “I’ll need to run deeper tests, then. I’ll need to analyze the contagion levels, if there are any, how quickly the virus progresses, what the symptoms are, and I vow to do this all and record it day by day, hour by hour.”

When Minerva huffed, he dipped his head to one side as he sneered a rather vulpine sort of sneer in her direction. Pettily, he barked, “Satisfied then, Headmistress?”

Sternly, she demurred, “No. I need for one more thing to be settled on, and then I’ll consider myself _satisfied,_ Severus.”

Steeling himself for the worst, he shut his eyes, held his breath, and literally heard his internal gears working on overdrive. The dust, cobwebs, grime, and sludge that had once greased and oiled every piece belonging to the psyche of Severus Snape was now being tested. He was at the end of his tether, and it was all because of Minerva…no! It was all because of Hermione bloody Granger…

As though sensing just how unnerved and ferociously vitriolic he’d been steadily growing by the minute, Minerva let out a chuckle that while to herself was risible, to Severus, it was the antithesis of humorous.

Her shadow fell over his, and for a mere second, it dwarfed his own. In spite of being quite tall, Severus felt cut down and reduced to his teenage years with Minerva McGonagall glaring down at him.

A rather self-satisfied grin ate up her normally peaceful, empathetic veneer, and now, she appeared quite deranged. No doubt, she was enjoying to some degree his increasing levels of revulsion and disgust.

“Severus, as of tonight, I beseech you, I _urge_ you to take care of Miss Granger. I am placing her in your care, and I will arrange for her belongings to be moved down in the spare room you reserved for research next to your private quarters.”

Alarm bells buzzed on and off in Severus’ perturbed mind. Nearly collapsing due to the obscenity of her words, he placed a hand over his stomach as he wheezed uncomfortably, “Minerva? Th-that room…I was going to—”

Holding both his hands in her own fiercely, as she clung to Severus so desperately, the potions professor was reminded of how he’d underestimated Minerva so many times. As fragile and frail as she appeared to be, she was a lot stronger than he could’ve ever wished to be.

Swallowing nervously while the Headmistress battled through her tears, Severus willed himself to keep his mouth closed and let her speak. He sensed she truly would implode if he interrupted her.

Shaking his hands urgently, the Headmistress pleaded, “Severus…I’m not asking for much…p-please, you’ve done so well to put yourself before others, before. I’ve recognized everything you did for Mister Potter, but now, we need your help once more.”

Shutting his eyes and turning away from her wretched sight before he lost himself to foolish whims and emotional outbursts, Severus clung to her hands just as fiercely. Their veins jutted out from beneath their skin, and bones seemed to crack the longer they held on so ferociously. It seemed as though through pain, both Severus and Minerva were able to communicate just how tortured and disturbed they both were…each for vastly different reasons, however.

Holding resentment enough for Hermione Granger’s sake, as Severus’ eyes remained firmly shut, he battled and fought against all odds bickering and conflicting within his heart and his conscience. The constant, importunate tug and pull back and forth was nothing short of excruciating, but he knew deep down that he still abided by his own moral and ethical codes. Minerva was right; he couldn’t stand by idly while Hermione suffered.

Stiffly, Severus nodded and finally cracked an eye open. Though his tone remained bitter and rather harsh, he assented seriously, “Very well, Headmistress. I agree to your terms…Granger did save my life, after all…”

Beaming at him as her tears fell, Minerva whispered in gratitude, “Thank you, Severus…thank you…”

“A life for a life, Minerva; no need to thank me and waste such senseless tears.” Glaring out the office windows right at a sleeping Hermione Granger, Severus mused mostly to himself, “The world cares very little for our tears, so I’ve found; best not squander them.”


	4. Death Cry

_They had laid out a blanket in the middle of the bright meadow, their one and only chief aim to enjoy the scenic view while the world continued to spin placidly at their feet. The picnic was to be a feast of only their own bodies, the stark differences in their anatomy the bountiful offerings and provisions. Having discarded their clothing quickly, they now took their time enjoying the pleasure lavishing._

_Severus returned her wanton glances with ones of his own, teetering on the edge of insanity. Like a starving, drowned man, the famished potion professor devoured her nude form as long as he could, body responding quite nicely in turn. She was watching him, too, her greedy, libidinous eyes presenting her intentions loud and clear. Her thoughts about him rang in the air like great wind chimes, singing into Severus’ ears, making his heart soar._

_Carefully, he caressed her supple right breast gently with one hand as the other breast was bathed with his warm tongue. Lying it flatly on the nipple before he tugged it into his mouth, stimulating it as he would later do with her clitoris, he relished in hearing her first sharp intake of passionate breath. His other hand crept down her belly until it reached her most intimate of places on her body. Though he wanted to take his time with her, the heat steaming up between her strong thighs only encouraged him to pick up the pace. Soon, his long fingers found her sensitive nub and started to stroke in deep, clockwise motions._

_A tantalizing fire started slowly and working from the soles of Severus’ feet, burning every nerve on the way up his legs. She was growing wetter, opening up to his ministrations…she was there, all for his own pleasure, and all for his taking. Finally, as the tingling sensations met the base of his erection, simultaneously as it did at her quim, so did Severus’ fingers enter her moist heat. Slowly,_ _though at first, exploring, then more quickly, at her insistence, he was pumping into her musky heat. In and out, repeat; the rhythm was set, with a searing ache especially in Severus’ core._

_She was driving him mad. The way she was moaning was akin to music from the gods, and the denizens of the underworld were serenading them, now. She grabbed Severus’ hair, pulling lightly, then more forcefully as her pleasure escalated. Before long, she couldn’t take the pleasure, nor could Severus handle the pain. Both were mingling and connected, and he wanted to taste what else she had to offer._

_In one fell swoop, she made him lie on his back. She carefully slid her curvaceous body down his until she rested to face his thick cock jutting high in the air with want. Carefully, she lowered her mouth onto his arousal, the heat unsurpassed. Just the tip at first, then a little more slid in, until she had her mouth at its base. Severus had to focus and plead with himself not to erupt into an early climax. It’d been far too long, and this woman…this woman had utterly and totally bewitched him, body, mind, and soul._

_She met his eyes lewdly on the pass up his shaft. Offering him a lazy sort of grin that betrayed nothing aside from highly perverse and prurient notions, she then swirled her tongue in wild, erratic motions, making sure to pay extra attention to the head. But as much as she enjoyed this, she was eager for the main event._

_Kissing a trail up his stomach, she stopped just a breath away from his lips. Repositioning herself, she angled her hips, and her pussy was now inches away from his cock. Severus was bucking up against her, rutting like a mad canine in a rut. As her mouth connected to his, so did her pussy to his shaft. She was an insatiable creature, quite difficult to please, though Severus didn’t mind it._

_Nearly going dizzy with her frantic motions, he grew even more tumescent as she impaled herself on his cock repeatedly. Neither noticed when the first drops of muggy rain started to fall. Nor did they notice when the wind started blowing more forcefully around them. The world could crumble and shatter in a million pieces, and Severus wouldn’t care. The gorgeous woman riding him was all he could focus on, his hands first settling on her hips, guiding her, and then sliding up along her shapely stomach before landing on a breast._

_It wasn’t until the blasts of lightning lit up the sky and the thunder booming as they climaxed with hoarse shouts did they realize that a storm had even formed. They didn’t care, though. She just continued to grind her hips into his, draining his bursting orgasm from his damp, sexually exhausted body. As she collapsed onto his chest once she’d drained him, the rain poured in rippling mass from the clouds. They lay there blissfully in their sated state, her head upon his chest, his hands somewhere buried in her drenched locks._

_She pressed her hips against him in a silent effort, and Severus knew she was no doubt lying in wait for his strength…she was urging him for a second round…_

_Eager to please her and prove his sexual prowess, Severus turned her about to press against the ground, hooked her legs over his shoulders, positioning her for a deeper level of penetration. She suddenly lunged at him, pupils dilating and eyelashes glowing beneath the natural outdoor light. There was a translunary power, a surge of fresh hunger, and Severus was stricken. Immobile from head to toe as she took over, he surrendered to her whims, allowing her to be the one calling the shots…she could do whatever it was she wanted with him…he wouldn’t ever cease offering himself to her divine body…_

_When her fingernails dug into his back, hooking on for purchase as he speared in and out of her body once more, Severus felt a sharp flash of pain emanating from between his shoulder blades. Ignoring it at first only due to how tightly she was sucking and pulling him deeper and deeper inside her tight channel, the pain soon became insurmountably high and quite difficult to deny. Something wet trickled down his spine, and Severus whirled his head around, peering over his shoulders to determine what it was._

_A trail of bright, crimson fluid began running down his arms and sides, dripping onto the luscious green grass like rain. As delicious as her body felt to him, now, a pang of fear and dread caused him to cease all movement. Fixating on her, as he turned back to gaze upon her, a soft, deadly hissing sound hit his ears._

_When Severus finally glanced down at her, a world of darkness hurtled into him, rendering him frozen and blind. Teeth sank into his neck, right along the very same spot Nagini’s fangs had…the wounds were re-opened, the gash was larger than ever, and she’d ripped his heart straight from his rib cage…the muscle was still beating and throbbing for her, even when she took a bite out of it, and even long after she’d swallowed it whole._

∞α∞α∞

Severus awoke then, a splitting headache, body drenched in sweat, muscles cramped and sore, and his form nearly hanging off the edge of his large bed, midway down to the floor, already. His sheets were nearly choking the life out of him, somehow having wound around his damn neck, slowly squeezing.

What the hell position was this?! Not one for sleep walking or fidgeting, he righted himself, cracked his neck and back, and wandered over to lighting on a few candles. It was far too late for this…he was again behaving like some pubescent brat, dreaming of intimacies, pondering on the alluring, enticing body of a female he would never have. 

How deplorably vile…

Making a quick note to begin brewing a fresh batch of Dreamless Sleep Potions for himself, he opened the door to his private sleeping quarters, wandering out into his chambers where he’d last seen the Gryffindor girl. As he’d unwittingly promised to Minerva, he’d arranged for Hermione’s stay, a decision which he was already deeply regretting. Like all females, this wench had far too many belongings, and they were cluttering his personal space.

By the masses, mountain and hordes of her bags, suitcases, and various items were now already taking up majority of the space in his research labs, which he’d unfortunately and begrudgingly had to cast into a separate room for her.

The source of his grievance and the mother of all that was unjust in the world was lying there on a large chesterfield, close to his fireplace…he’d gone through so many lengths for her damn sake, and yet she’d insisted upon sleeping on _his_ large sofa, right in front of _his_ warm fireplace.

Damn chit…damn wretched girl!

Gazing upon her sleeping form, completely oblivious to his presence at her side, Severus cast a million deadly glares at Hermione. She’d bundled herself up in heavy, thick blankets, though she was tossing and turning badly. No doubt, she was uncomfortable, and this never troubled Severus Snape.

Good. She deserved that for intruding on his life, his business, his world, his comforts…

Noticing the time of night when his grandfather clock began chiming, Severus hurriedly sat at his writing desk adjacent to the sofa, quill in hand. Swiftly, in his own messy handwriting, he jotted the time down, and he made a quick note regarding the fact that Hermione Granger had still yet to eat something. It’d been almost one full day since she’d consumed a single morsel. This was troublesome…not for Severus, but for the Headmistress, especially when he had to report this to her.

How could he get her to eat? He wasn’t her father! He wasn’t her keeper! Scratching the back of his head as he stared at her resting there, Severus wondered if it was worth it to even attempt. Fearing she would vomit all over him, he gave up on trying to feed her, himself. If she was truly hungry, she would feed herself, and that was all he needed to deduce for his own disturbed mind. She was a grown woman! Surely, feeding herself wasn’t that difficult, no matter how exhausted and weak she was!

Throwing his quill down onto his desk, Severus arranged some loose sheets and old scrolls, choosing now of all times to organize his workstation. It was a rather peevish, nervous thing to do; only a move of utter tedium as he tried denying the fact that Hermione Granger was as pale as death. It’d been a thought that had crossed his mind since she arrived at his chambers. At first, Severus tried distracting himself from eyeing her gaunt, ghostly visage, but now, in the hues of the fireplace and the candlelight, it was impossible to skirt around.

She was losing blood…far too much blood, and he didn’t even understand how.

Physically examining her, again, Severus noted that there weren’t any wounds on Hermione’s body. Her skin hadn’t been punctured, which meant that the source of the bleeding had to be internal. He had to dig deeper.

Casting numerous charms, he examined her for another hour, there, straining his nerves and mind as he concluded that while bleeding internally, at this rate, she would be dead by dawn.

Lips flapping without his knowledge, he whispered to himself, “She needs a blood transfusion…” Dear gods, how was he going to pull _that_ off? A blood transfusion was no joke, and he wasn’t skilled in this area! He couldn’t just give her _anyone’s_ blood! He didn’t even know Granger’s blood type, and by the time he did, she would likely be dead!

Angrily kicking around his chambers, Severus began to panic in ways he never had, before. He was tearing apart his own belongings, like a bratty child throwing a raging tantrum, and all because of this damn girl!

Tugging on various strands of his hair, he ground his teeth together, wincing from the minor bouts of pain and discomfort that brought him. Silly thing to do, really; no amount of physical pain in the world could replace the burning torments Hermione Granger had so callously thrust at him. Nothing could measure up to it…

Just as he’d exited his quarters, deciding to randomly take up patrolling, even though it wasn’t his night and his time to do so, Severus heard a faint scuttling and scurrying sound. It closely resembled little feet and little claws moving across the old floorboards, the scratching sounds eerily close. His ears itched as he hearkened to the oddities of the noises, wondering what vermin had snuck into his chambers.

Was it a damn rat? A mouse? An insect?

“No, Rita Skeeter wouldn’t dare do that,” he joked to himself, mostly to steel his nerves as he located the sounds emanating from his personal library. The door was partly open, and Severus’ heart leapt into his throat. He most assuredly _had_ shut the door hours ago…

Gazing at Hermione, without causing a sound, Severus reached for his wand, pulling it out of his robes and steadying his guts. Whoever this intruder was, he had to disarm them without causing a damn racket and waking the girl up. Strangely, as he wandered down the hall facing the library door, Severus had to ponder just how this spy had wandered in, all without setting off his warding charms and alarms.

Only another staff member of Hogwarts would be able to pull this off…

Hand inches away from the door handle, Severus noticed the limb shaking, and he cursed Nagini, even though the damn monster was miles beneath the earth. Permanent nerve damage had been her parting gift…or rather, Voldemort’s parting gift to Severus…such treachery knew no bounds…

Swallowing the bile that was threatening to bubble up into his throat, Severus damned counting to ‘three’, and with his wand raised like a blade, he burst into the library. Stumbling in as crazily as he had, his feet came to a screeching halt when he saw a patch of golden hair, and fancy robes inches away his own body.

Gilderoy Lockhart was standing there, burying his damn nose into an old book, head hardly raised in spite of Severus’ abrupt entry. Cold as ice, Gilderoy merely raised a hand and waved auspiciously at his incensed, disturbed colleague.

“Good evening, old chap!”

Snarling as he immediately recovered from his frozen, statuesque state of shock, Severus hissed acerbically, “Lockhart! What the devil do you think you’re doing in here?!” Stomping a foot down, he enunciated with bitterness, “These are _my_ personal quarters, need I remind you!” As daft and as fickle minded as Gilderoy was, there had to be a plausible explanation for why he was in here to begin with, and Severus wanted to know what that was.

Out of fear and concern of contamination and further, irreparable harm, he had to contain Hermione’s virus. He had to keep everyone else at bay since there was no way to tell how deadly this viral infection was, whether it was contagious, and how it passed along to others, if at all.

Only a blithering novice, an innocent fool like Gilderoy Lockhart could end up destroying everything, risking the lives of hundreds of students.

When the silence had been too much to tolerate, Severus again demanded aggressively, “Lockhart, I believe I asked you a question. Answer it.”

Tossing him a goofy, lopsided smile, a childish Gilderoy purred, “I was trying to be of assistance to my adorning fan, Miss Granger, Severus!” Spinning around the tall wizard donning dark robes, Gilderoy chirped brightly, “I believe the answer to all her problems can be found in my latest book, _Wrath of the Succubus!”_

This pompous arse…the temerity was astounding and blinding. Gawking for a moment, Severus didn’t know how to react as his throat felt parched and his tongue turned dry.

Mistaking his reactions for admiration and fondness unspoken, Gilderoy pet him on the shoulder as he commiserated sweetly, “There, there, Severus. I understand how perplexing and complicated this all is, which is why by morning, I’ll send an owl to deliver the book to you…free of charge, of course!” Snapping his fingers, he giggled like a small boy, sweeping and winding around Severus, robes billowing wildly.

“I’ll see myself out, now, especially considering how I know you want to toss me out on my arse, my dear colleague.”

Before Severus had a chance to utter a single syllable, let alone a full word, Gilderoy Lockhart closed the library door, exiting Severus’ chambers as quietly as he’d entered them. Left there alone to ponder the state of madness growing and swelling all around his world, Severus shut his eyes and lowered his wand.

A dull, pounding, throbbing source channeled into his skull, beginning from the back, spanning to the front. It pushed and pressed at his forehead, as though begging to be released, lest he wanted to implode. Overcome with rage aeviternal, without even thinking, an impetuous Severus Snape flung his wand arm into the air, aimed at a defenseless globe resting upon a writing desk, and blasted it into a hundred bits.

∞α∞α∞

Ensuring that this time, his rooms were guarded and well sealed off from further interruptions, Severus moved back beside Hermione, propping a chair near the long sofa she was lying on. There was no other way, and time was short. With every wavering handle of the clock, he knew the pendulum of death was swinging down lower and lower, drastically cutting Hermione’s life in half. Something had to be done, and this was the most opportune moment.

Rolling his left sleeve up to his elbow, he tried getting ‘comfortable’, as comfortable as one could be while pressing the tip of his wand against a vein. It danced and swelled beneath the wand as magic seeped into his skin. The drawing of blood in such a magical, non-complex manner wasn’t something Severus wished to grow accustomed to. The intricacies and formalities had to be dispensed with, however.

Drawing what he hoped would be enough of the substance, he deposited his own blood into a vial, hooked a transparent intravenous line into Hermione’s arm, and sat back as he set to work. There was no telling what would happen, but he was beyond frightened, now. Hermione had quite the drastically low hemoglobin level, and she was minutes away from passing out.

Tapping the line, Severus then massaged it, literally pumping his own blood directly into Hermione’s body. The entire time as he sat and observed the blood making its way inside her veins, he whispered to himself how insane this was, how stupid this entire ordeal was, and that she was going to die…no, they were _both_ going to die. Hermione, from her mysterious ailments, and Severus would expire from Minerva’s wrath and impatience.

The entire process took no more than fifteen minutes, but when it was finished, Severus felt weak, ill, and drained. Hermione’s body immediately changed upon receiving the fresh blood. Rosy tones pooled into her cheeks, her fever gradually died away, she ceased tossing and turning in her sleep, all forms of sweating decreased, and she looked a lot healthier.

Deciding to keep an eye on her for another two hours, when not a single instance had occurred past three in the morning, Severus fell into a deep sleep, not at all budging from his seat. The position was a horrible one to doze off in, and he dearly paid for it in the morning.

Neck strained beyond belief, when the first light of the sun beamed in through his curtains and windows, Severus sat up, trying to study Hermione closely. She was still fast asleep, but to his genuine horror, again, she was growing pale in the face.

For goodness sake…how much more blood did she require? He couldn’t take this, anymore!

Desperately, he shook her, whispering harshly at her, “Granger. Wake up! Wake up!” After shaking the sleeping female another four times without any good results, Severus gave up on the arduous task. She could no doubt sleep through a damn hurricane, at this point.

Glaring at his exposed forearms, when he tried getting to work on another blood transfusion, he’d been frightened out of his wits from every angle. A damn owl had flown in through an open window, no doubt belonging to Gilderoy. It dropped a heavy book onto his desk, hooted its greeting, flew off, and then a steady knock came at Severus’ door.

Damn it all…damn this entire—

“Severus! I must speak with you!”

Recognizing Poppy’s distressed voice, Severus rose immediately, nearly tripping over his robes as he rapidly approached the large, heavy door. Unlocking and opening it for her, he bowed his head as he bid her a good morning.

Noticing how stiff and sickly he looked, she winced as she held her cap in her tiny hands. “Severus, pardon my intrusion, but I must speak with you regarding recent discoveries of Miss Granger’s illness!”

Sarcastically, Severus jeered, “Well, thank the heavens for _that_ , Poppy; I was afraid you were declaring your deep-seated romantic feelings for me if you hadn’t made clear of your intentions, truly.”

Growling as she shoved him aside, stepping into his hallway rudely, Poppy Pomfrey snorted as she made a quick study of Severus’ form and disheveled appearance. “Glad to see that your dry sense of humor is still with you, Severus, even if you look like hell on earth.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Severus suppressed a yawn. “Do you have a point here, woman? Or did you wish to waste more of my time?”

Without hesitating, Madam Pomfrey kept her voice down as she whispered in a stream of unease. “This virus is life-altering, Severus. I’ve now learned that this virus moves into the brain tissue through the bloodstream, which can lead to brain swelling.” Eyes wider than small saucers, she corrected with a cough, “Well, namely, the brain itself isn’t swelling, but the meninges, which refer to the membranous coverings of the brain and spinal cord, will, however.”

Blinking slowly, Severus then rubbed his aching arms and back, nodding as he urged her to continue.

“I’m afraid this will lead to the presentation of anger and bizarre behavior, and as the virus replicates at a faster rate, there will be more aggressive behavior from the host.”

Blandly, Severus’ sangfroid expression never faltered as he stated crassly, “Bizarre behavior is the least of my worries, Poppy. After all, I think you’re forgetting who Miss Granger’s closest, bosom friends are.”

“Severus!” she warned, but he held up a hand and pressed on.

“After the hysterics and antics Potter forced the school to endure and suffer through over the damn years, I doubt one tiny virus could change Miss Granger all that much.”

Glaring madly down the hall, Madam Pomfrey curtly spat, “Shut up, Severus. I despise being rude but do shut up!” Once her eyes caught the vial still dripping with blood as it rested on the seat of the old, wooden chair Severus had slept on, she gasped and pointed at it. “What on earth happened, here?”

Scowling at her, Severus shrugged in a rather exaggerated manner. “Oh, nothing unusual, Poppy.” Gesturing at his bruised arm and the mark remaining after the blood transfusion, he scathingly bit out, “Just my regular duties of bleeding myself for a damn student. Nothing out of the ordinary, you see, so thank you for your concern.”

Ignoring his barbed attitude, Madam Pomfrey leaned into him as she wailed in a strained voice, “Severus! You gave her a blood transfusion?! What the devil made you do such a reckless thing?”

Not yet tiring of his strident mannerisms, seeing as he felt he’d been wronged in all this, Severus harshly replied, “I’m a charming gentleman, Poppy. What can I say, truly?”

“Severus, you—”

“I’d do just about _anything_ to please the fairer sex…” Sighing wistfully, as he gazed at Hermione, he cut to the chase while he announced, “She was losing an alarmingly high amount of blood, Poppy. What else was I to do? Rouse the entire school and host ‘try out’ sessions so the highest bidder could donate their blood?”

“I understand you’re exhausted, Severus,” Madam Pomfrey began in a maternal, caring tone, gently nudging him. “I do feel your plight, but I must ask, how is she losing so much blood?”

Running a hand through his hair, Severus mused, “Your guess is as good as mine, woman.”

“I wonder if it’s a vampire?”

Shaking his head, he demurred, “No, she isn’t suffering from any physical wounds, and this isn’t the work of a vampire, Poppy.” Placing a hand on his stomach, though it was quite empty, he vacuously bit out, “This is the internal process of the virus afoot, here…”

Assenting, Madam Pomfrey deduced didactically, “That would make sense with the things I discovered and the knowledge I accrued.”

Bowing mockingly, Severus taunted her, “Care to elaborate, Poppy?”

Acquiescing, though she was more than fed up with his smarmy attitude and displays, she elucidated slowly and carefully, “Overtime, more cells than merely neurological tissue will be affected. When any pathogen enters the brain, the immune system has limited options at its disposal, due to the blood-brain barrier, and difficult actually getting into the brain. Because of this, the virus will swell the lining of the brain, in an attempt to raise temperature and pressure. Ultimately, this will damage the brain, leaving to the expiration of the host.”

Staring at his brittle nails, Severus hummed, deep in thought. “Perhaps that’s why she’s losing blood; her brain is swelling, isn’t it?”

Shaking as she then held a hand over her mouth, as though begging with herself not to break down and weep, Madam Pomfrey timorously nodded. “Yes. Neurodegeneration…with the lining swelling, the prefrontal cortex is next to go. This isn’t good, for it is the prefrontal cortex that’s responsible for logical thinking and has a hand in controlling emotional outbursts!”

“Thus the behavior change, I take it?” Severus’ smooth, silky voice slid through the hallway like a treacherous, venomous serpent seeking its prey to sink its fangs into.

“Correct.” Bowing her head as she wrung her hands together, not knowing what to do with them in her anxiousness, Madam Pomfrey inquired, “Whatever do we do?”

Not really having an idea due to the lack of proper sleep and the bizarre nightmares that he’d been accosted with, Severus glumly shook his head. “This virus is quite interesting in its presentation, firstly, as well as its self-limiting factor. This ailment aims to alter the host’s brain functions, decision-making processes, as well as longevity of the entire system.” Expounding carefully, selecting his words in delicate measures, as though he didn’t want to overwhelm his listener, Severus led Madam Pomfrey into a vicinal room meant for storing his older potions.

Pushing her until she stood next to a large rack containing and supporting multiple vials and containers, the eerie glow they cast about the office didn’t bother Severus as much as what he’d been hearing himself repeating did. As a potions professor, he’d seen his fair share of oddities and mysterious creations often kept in various jars in his own storages. That wasn’t troubling himself any longer. What now troubled him was the thought of the unknown, especially where the novelty of the virus was concerned.

Holding his hands up and bringing them down to list his thoughts as best as he could in his exhausted state, Severus declaimed seriously, “There are many stages at work, Poppy. This shall be an on-going malady, I fear, and one in which I can’t even properly prepare for, seeing as I cannot anticipate what else will come my way.”

Whining, Madam Pomfrey paced in little motions, thoughts whirring almost in the pain-stricken eyes, the windows to her tormented, disturbed soul. “What do you know so far, Severus?”

Without needing to refer to his notes, Severus informed her, “Anyone infected during the early stages will appear restless, disoriented, confused, and even highly agitated. There is a likelihood for insomnia as well as hallucinations to occur down the road, as well, especially if the virus gets closer to the brain.” Using a succinct example, he pointed out factually, “Miss Granger was tossing and turning all night…I doubt she slept at all, until I gave her my blood.”

Reaching for anything in the way of answers and a glimmering hope of a solution along the horizon, Madam Pomfrey mused aloud, “So, this can be treated with blood, then?”

“I doubt it,” Severus supplied truthfully, even though he knew he had no idea, either. “This rapidly mutating thing has other demands, you see.” Earnestly, he explained rationally, “Overtime, if not treated, the amygdala will suffer the most damage, which is where a lot of fear, panic, and rage will be displayed in the host. I worry that the virus will send Miss Granger’s amygdala into overdrive, or possibly mass hysteria, and we’ll be past the point of no return as far as a cure is concerned.”

Sputtering, Madam Pomfrey broke out in a sob, “I…I will l-leave that to you, but what am I to tell the Headmistress, Severus?!” Whimpering like a small girl, she intoned emotionally, “We need results, a-and I’m h-here to assist you in whatever w-way I can, but—”

“Hush, woman. This isn’t the time to be overly sentimental and maudlin.” Logically, Severus stated, “If you wish to help, then you must see to it that you keep an eye on Gilderoy. Make sure his mouth stays shut.”

Not following, Madam Pomfrey asked, “Gilderoy? What does he have to do with this?”

Voice raw and anger rising, Severus explained, “He was in my library last night, Poppy, and the loon somehow pieced together that Miss Granger isn’t herself.” When she made to interrupt him, he discouraged her, pushing her toward the door. “We’ll worry about the details later, but for now, I must get back to my research and observations, Poppy.”

Opening the door, he ushered her out, leading her the way, just a few quick steps until he practically tossed her unceremoniously into the hall outside his chambers. “Please, although we all know he’s insane, I can’t run the risk of Lockhart frightening the others…watch him, restrain him, hell, cast an Unforgivable, if you must, but he must stay _quiet._ ”

Tears were brimming in her eyes, clearly evident behind her restraint as she whimpered, “Severus, I don’t know—”

“Damn it, woman!” Impatiently, he hung onto the doorway as he hooked his fingers into the wood, eagerly attempting not to let loose all his bottled-up hatred and rage onto her so unfairly. “Poppy, just do as I say!”

His words had taken the proper, desired effect, after all. Like a frightened, intimidated first-year, Madam Pomfrey tucked her head down, turned, and fled down the hall in fear. When she was finally out of sight, Severus felt his gut clenching in guilt. He didn’t understand where this oddity had stemmed from, but he went along with the idea that a lack of sleep was terrifying, especially now that he was much older.

Stomach tossing and turning in sickening waves, he found that fresh air wasn’t even doing his system any good. Perhaps he’d caught whatever the hell Hermione Granger was suffering from. Pressing a hand over his stomach when it growled, he shut the front door of his chambers, thinking about grabbing a small bite to eat.

That comforting thought was gone the moment it’d arrived, and all because he heard footsteps looming and echoing closely behind himself.


End file.
